


That One Time We Had a Dick Showing Contest With Soul Eating Furbys...

by Lilnerd3696



Series: The fft verse [1]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alive Allison, Alive Erica, Alive Vernon Boyd, Brief mention of Peter, Crack, Crossover, M/M, May Turn into Sterek, May add tags, Minor Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall, Some Swearing, The sterek is minor, This is in the fff verse btw, Very Minor, because reasons, own universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilnerd3696/pseuds/Lilnerd3696
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... And The Pack Discovered Stiles' Secret Family (Well, Part of It).</p><p>In which Stiles has secrets, is adopted, and wins in a dick showing contest with evil Furbys. Also he has a weird as fuck family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"So basically it's a dick showing contest."

Deaton sighed quietly. "It's an ancient competition that their kind made to see who was worthier of being leader. The Herst with the most impressive titles is the most worthy."

"It's totally a dick showing contest." Stiles grinned. "We're going to get into a dick showing contest with a real life Furby. How is this our lives?"

"Shut up Stiles, " Derek growled at the spastic human before turning back to Deaton. "How to we get them to go away?" "You win the competition." The vet replied. "It can't be that simple," Erica protested. "It's never that simple. What happens if we lose?"

Deaton looked gravely at the assorted supernatural creatures gathered in his clinic (plus Stiles and Allison). "They consume your souls."

Silence slammed into the room after Deaton spoke. Stiles was the one who broke it. "Eat our souls?!" He screeched. "Oh fuck no! How are they going to do that? Stick little soul sucker things down our throats? Don't want to be french kissed by a creepy dick showing Furby!" His arms flailed around. "I don't think they'd want to kiss you, Stiles," Erica snarked. "So don't worry, your soul's safe." Stiles adopted a mock-hurt look. "That really hurt Erica," he whined. "Der, control your Betas."

Derek growled at Stiles, his gorgeous multicolored eyes flashing red for a second. Not that Stiles thought Derek's eyes were gorgeous. Nope. Not at all. Shut up. "So how do we win then?" Stiles abruptly changed subjects. "Cause I'm assuming failure's not an option."

"Can we fake titles?" Scott chipped in from where he, Allison, and Isaac were having a threeway cuddle fest. "If you can, can I be the King of Awesome? Or the- Ow!" Erica smiled innocently at Stiles. "Der, your Beta just hit me with a very strong hand and she's scaring me!"

"If you two don't shut up you'll be first in line to get your souls eaten." Satisfied with his threat, Derek repeated Scott's question to Deaton. The vet shook his head. "No. You need proof. If you claim to be a King, they'll check. If you claim to be a heir or in line to a throne you'll need the current Ruler of the throne to verify that you're telling the truth."

"So what do we do?" Erica leaned into Boyds side, the quiet Beta wrapping an arm around her waist. "If we can't trick them-" "-we fight them." Derek finished for her. "Lydia, Stiles, stay here with Deaton. Find out their weaknesses. The rest of you are on patrol duty. I'll go talk to Peter. Call me every two hours or I'll come after you." He glared at Allison, Scott, and Isaac, who all looked guiltily down at the floor. "Aw come on Sourpatch, you know they're going to have multiple threesomes in the forest so all you can really do is tell them to be quick." Derek ignored Stiles' input and strode out of the room with his Betas following behind, leaving Stiles to the mercy (yeah right) of Deaton and Lydia.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. So i'm probably just going to update this whenever I can. I'm sorry if you're sick of waiting.

Derek knew he was going to have nightmares about his. Not that he'd ever admit it, of course. It turns out Stiles was right about the 'little soul-sucker things'. The Hearst did look like Furbys with lips, until you pissed them off. Then they grew to four times their original size, grew talons, and thick slimy tongues pushed their way between sharp fangs. The tongues had little tentacles surrounding another mouth at the tip. So yeah, nightmares.

"You have chosen death!" Prince Marvin (3rd in line to the Dirt Throne, Keeper of the Keys, blah blah blah) grinned, the corners of his mouth curving up and up and up until they reached the corners of his eyes. "Oh my god," Isaac moaned. He and the rest of the Betas were spread out behind Derek, with Allison and Lydia right at the back. Allison had her crossbow aimed at the leader of the Hearst and Lydia was tightly holding Stiles' baseball bat.

Their resident Emissary in training was missing. Several minutes before they'd all headed out into the forest he'd disappeared, claiming he'd gotten a message that could help them with the Hearst. "Don't kick any Furby ass without me!" Stiles had joked.  _Looks like we're going to have to start without you,_ Derek thought. He felt the bone structure in his face change, fangs poke out of his mouth and his fingernail lengthen into claws. He heard his pack either shift with him or ready their weapons. Derek was eyeing Marvin when a chill covered the clearing like a blanket smothering a fire and destroying the warmth.

"Prince Marvin, I challenge you to the contest that your ancestors created."

Stiles stepped out of the darkness surrounding the clearing and calmly walked into the No-Man's Land between the two sides. He wore the same clothes Derek had last seen him in: converse shoes, baggy jeans, and a long sleeved plaid shirt over a graphic tee. But something about him seemed different. The confident way he held himself, or maybe the cold smile painted on his face. Stiles stepped between Derek and Marvin and ignored the low growl resonating in Derek's chest. 

"Stiles? What are you doing?" Scott asked anxiously. The beta's heartbeat sped up and he edged forward slightly. "Saving your furry asses," Stiles replied. "So. What do you say, Marv? Think you can win?" Marvin studied the smiling human in front of him, and Derek restrained himself from grabbing Stiles and shoving the idiot behind him. "I accept your challenge," Marvin growled. "I shall start."

"I am, Prince Marvin, third in line to the Dirt Throne, Keeper of the Keys. My father was King Simpis, two time winner of the Glimmering Trials, and I am descended from King Sevebrun, the first ruler of the Dirt Throne, and the founder of Braeve. Who are you?"

Derek could hear Stiles' heart racing, and could smell the fear and uncertainty rolling of him in waves despite his cool exterior. Marvin grinned down at Stiles. "Do you admit defeat?" He asked mockingly. "Fuck no," Stiles replied. "But you can can if you want." The Hearst's leader laughed. "State your titles quickly so that I can kill you."

Derek watched as Stiles shifted into a defensive stance, before he began to speak.

"My name is Przemysl Konstantyn Stilinski. My fathers are the Archangel Gabriel and Loki Laufeyson. You say you are third in line to the Dirt Throne. I am fourth in line to the throne of Jötunheim by birth, third in line to the throne of Asgard by adoption, and I was appointed second in line to the throne of Helheim by Queen Hel herself. I am 'Little Red'. I run with wolves and gods and aliens. I dance with the Maenads and do not get killed. My siblings are the ones who will start Ragnarök. The real question should be who are you? Who are you to think you can threaten my pack and not get your asses handed to you on a silver platter."

Stiles said the last part quickly and the menacing tone sent a cold feeling crawling up everyone's spines. Marvin seemed uneasy, his heart beating like he was the prey and not the predator like he usually was. "Proof," he snarled desperately. "Where is your proof?!"

"Are we proof enough?" From out of the shadows dancing across a tree trunk stepped a group of people. Leading them was the woman who'd spoken. An aura of death and rot surrounded her. Her left hand and the left side of her face was dead and a glassy eye stared out at the Hearst from where it was surrounded by mummified flesh. Only her hands and face were bare; a long sleeved, floor length dress with a high throat covered the rest of her body. Long, black, greasy hair stuck to her face. On the woman's right was a large wolf who was the same height as Derek, if not taller. It's pelt was dark grey, it's eyes a shimmering green. On the woman's left was another woman. This one also had black hair, but that was were the similarities ended. The second woman's hair was messy and tangled, but it was washed. She wore a plain, dirty dress that ended mid-thigh. Vines were wrapped around her limbs and wound through her hair. Her skin was tanned from years in the sun, and violet eyes flashed in amusement.

The first woman stepped forward. "I am Hel Lokisdottir, Queen of Helheim. I can vouch for my brother's claims."

"You have a sister?!" Derek could hear the hurt in Scott's voice and the underlying ' _and you didn't tell me?_ ' "Not now Scott. Wait until the Furby troupe is gone, then you can pull the 'hurt puppy look' on me." _  
_

Hela, the other woman, and the wolf flanked Stiles so that he and Hela were in the middle. "I think it's obvious that my brother has won the contest." Hel's voice sounded otherworldly and layered, as if there were multiple versions of her talking in unison. Marvin nodded quickly. "Of course your Majesty." His heart beat quickly and loudly and he reeked of fear. The leader of the small band of Hearst turned away. "Marrrrvin!" Stiles called out. "Don't came back," he warned. Marvin nodded repeatedly, his head still bobbing as he sprinted for safety. Stiles snickered at the sight of several dozen giant bear-like monsters running away from them with their little fluffy tails shaking in terror.

After the Hearst left the clearing was silent like the grave (thankfully not one the Winchesters had to pay a visit to). Stiles turned to face Derek and the rest of the Pack. "So...." he trailed off, anxiously tugging at the hem of his shirt. "You guys probably have some questions."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is probably going to be the last actual chapter in this story, because I really need to focus on my other story (A Consulting (Retired) Dragon and his Hobbit). However I may add some one shots if I can. Thanks for the comments and the Kudos!

"No, Stiles. We don't have any questions about the fact that you are apparently not being human or that you're in line to inherit three thrones." Derek's tone was as dry as Stiles' throat. "Can we do this somewhere else? Or maybe another time? Like, in a thousand years?"

"I think now is the best time to talk about this," Hela looked sternly at Stiles. "Don't try to deflect." Hela's voice sounded normal now, and the shadows that'd clung to her had faded away. Even as Derek watched her, her shriveled flesh ballooned out, filled with blood and life and turning from black to pale pink. Her hair was suddenly clean and brushed, and her dress turned into skinny jeans, a hoodie, and a pair of sneakers.

"That's so cool," Isaac whispered. Hela grinned at the young werewolf. "Are we doing this here or at yours?" The woman covered with vines asked Stiles. "Mine," Stiles sighed. "Might as well do it somewhere comfortable. Hela? You mind?" The goddess rolled her sparkling green eyes. "I'm not a taxi little brother." Reluctantly, she snapped her fingers and waves of darkness engulfed the clearing. Derek felt something yank him to the side, and he briefly panicked. Thankfully the darkness cleared quickly, and Derek found himself face to face with a very surprised Sheriff Stilinski.

"Um..." The Alpha was unsure what to say. "Hey Mr Stilinski!" Scott awkwardly waved at his best friend's father. The Sheriff looked around the room at the werewolf pack, seemingly unconcerned about the giant wolf relaxing on his couch. Or the woman covered in vines going into the kitchen. Or the fact the Allison's bow was still strung and ready to shoot. "Hi Dad," Stiles yelled from the kitchen. "I thought you had work?" "I do," the Sheriff sighed loudly. "Don't break anything, and you know that you shouldn't be on the couch when you're shifted, Fenrir." The wolf looked guiltily down at the floor, and then suddenly there was a heavily built man lying on the couch. "My apologies, John." Fenrir sounded like he'd just consumed a truckload of gravel, and he looked like he'd just come back from a several year mountain hike, and then come to save the Pack's asses. "Introductions, Stiles!" The Sheriff shouted as he pulled the front door shut behind him. Derek listened as the Sheriff got in his car, started it, then drove away.

"He knew?!" He rounded on Stiles as the younger man walked into the room. "Dude," Stiles laughed. "He's known about the supernatural since before I was born. Mum was a devout follower of Loki, and he found out two years into their relationship." Silence followed his explanation, broken by he still unknown woman entering the room and sitting next to Fenrir.

"Right!" Stiles exclaimed. "Introductions! This-" he gestured to his sister, "-is Hela. Over there is Fenrir, the wolf guy, and Telete, his wife. Fenrir's also my brother." Fenrir and Telete waved from the couch. "Take a seat," Hela smiled at the other occupants of the room. "We don't bite. Well," she added thoughtfully, "we don't bite outside of fighting or the bedroom." Stiles groaned. "Oh my god please shut up." "Aw..." Hela crooned. "Is little Przemysl embarrassed by his big sister?" Stiles flopped down on the couch and tried to smother himself with a cushion. "I'm embarrassed by my little sister," Fenrir growled at Hela. "So shut up and let PK talk." Stiles decided to continue suffocating himself with a pillow.

"PK?" Jackson inquired as he sat down in an armchair, attempting to appear unordered by the grinning Norse goddess less than a metre away from him."It's short for Przemysl Konstantyn," Telete explained from where she was pressed against her husband. "He started calling himself Stiles when he was around 6, but we still call him PK." "

It's funny when he gets in trouble and Dad pulls out the full name card," Hela snickered before she was hit in the face with a cushion. "What the fuck PK?!" Hela yelled, launching herself towards Stiles. Stiles vaulted over the back of the couch and out of her reach. "Don't make me full name you!" She clambered after him and started chasing a laughing Stiles around the house while the Pack looked on in either amusement or confusion. Fenrir and Telete smiled at the foul curses that were being screamed throughout the house. "At least your father isn't here," Telete mused at Fenrir. He nodded solemnly.

"Yes. John was quite upset about the toilet."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations! I can't write my other fanfic at the moment so you guys get two really short drabbles. Enjoy.

John Stilinski took the news that his wife was a worshipper of Loki and that the supernatural existed quite well. Of course, Claudia had to cast a few spells to prove that she wasn't crazy, but that was to be expected. He took the news that his wife was infertile slightly less well. He reassured himself by saying they could adopt a kid, and then spent the next few weeks contacting adoption agencies from all over the state. Claudia, surprisingly, wasn't that worried. "Don't worry John," she'd smiled. "It'll be alright." His brilliant wife was right, and when Talia Hale came to the police station with an abandoned baby her son had found in the woods he let the child be named after Claudia's father (thank god for nicknames. John couldn't pronounce Przemysl on a good day).

The day after Claudia died he and Stiles had some guests. A couple, both men, and a teenage girl. The short, whiskey-eyed man had introduced himself as the Archangel Gabriel, and his partner, a willowy man with long black hair, as Loki. The grinning girl who'd challenged Stiles to a game of Mario Cart was Hela, Queen of Niflem. John had poured himself three fingers of scotch. Apparently, Gabriel was the one who Claudia prayed to, not Loki, because of some shit that went down in heaven. Gabriel had left and became Loki, the Trickster god. Loki, his namesake, left Asgard three or four centuries ago and they'd been down on Earth ever since. They'd glossed over some details and told John all of the stuff he needed to know. Like how they were Stiles' biological parents (he looked up how that was possible after they'd left and had nightmares for weeks). They'd stated that they didn't want to take Stiles away from him, but they and their children would like to get to know him, and if John ever needed a holiday or a short break they'd be happy to help. John took one look at Stiles smiling in the next room and heartily agreed. "I don't have much family, and Claudia never talked about hers." He'd said. "It'll be good for him."

So Gabriel and Loki came to get Stiles on the 26th of December and other days when they all agreed on it. Stiles introduced John to Fenrir and his wife Telete, and even drew up a family tree for him so he wouldn't get confused (John had to double check with Gabriel to make sure it was real). Of course, there was a hiccup with the frozen exploding toilet and the fact that Stiles wasn't exactly human, but John thinks he took the news quite well. Well. Apart from the whole werewolf thing. So sue him, he wasn't expecting his son to tell him over dinner. He'd be surprised if anyone handled it any better than he did. ____________________________________________________

Derek first met the Archangel Gabriel in the junk food aisle in the supermarket.

"So, Mr Grumpy face," someone inquired from behind him. "Rumor has it you're fucking my son." Derek nearly dropped the tube of Pringles he was holding. " _What?!_ " He spun around and glared down at a smirking midget. Okay, midget might be the wrong word, but the guy was really short. "Excuse me?" Derek asked politely. The man stuck out his hand, the other holding a shopping basket full of M&Ms. "Gabriel. Stiles' biological father. Heard through the grapevine you two are screwing." He smiled wide at his own joke. Derek knew that Stiles was going to kill Telete when he next saw her. "Yes, me and Stiles are going out," he conceded, shaking the Archangel's hand. "But he's 17. We're not, uh," he felt his cheeks burn. "We're not doing _that_ yet." He thanked whatever god that was listening that none of his pack was here to see this. "And we won't do that until he's 18 and we're ready."

Gabriel eyed him, a thoughtful look on his face. Derek had a feeling that Gabriel was looking at something no human could see. Derek's heart thudded in his chest. The angel nodded sharply. "You'll do." "What?" Derek questioned. Gabriel ignored him, vanishing into thin air with a flutter of wings. Derek stared at the empty space for a few seconds, then slowly put the Pringles into his shopping basket.

When he got home there was a pile of lube, condoms, and plain M&Ms on his bed.


End file.
